


Field Ready

by detectivemeer



Category: Ant-Man (2015), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ant-Man (2015) Spoilers, Bad Puns, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detectivemeer/pseuds/detectivemeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s really important to me that Cap never finds out about this.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Field Ready

**Author's Note:**

> a teeny fix-it fic for how the mighty falcon got his butt whooped by new baby ant-man, w/samsteve bc i am samsteve trash always (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧  
> [the tumbls](http://katsofmeer.tumblr.com/)

“Ow. Ow. _Ow_ ,” says Sam, jerking away. 

“If you stopped moving it wouldn’t hurt as much.” Steve clucks his tongue, but his touch is gentler as he sets the final ice pack against Sam’s shoulder. Steve settles comfortably next to Sam on the couch, carefully resting his head on Sam’s lap and picking up his hand, playing with his fingers absentmindedly. “So…”

“Don’t say it.”

Steve looks up at him, all shock and guileless big blue eyes. “I wasn’t!”

“Mmhmm.”

“Honestly, I won’t.”

Sam stares.

“But…”

“Oh god.” 

“An _ant_ , Sam. You lost a fight to an ant.” 

“He was very fast!” 

“He had bug powers. A falcon got his ass kicked by an ant.”

Sam covers his face in his hands to hide his grin. “Shut up. Shit, I told them not to tell you I knew you’d be insufferable.” 

Steve pries one of Sam’s hands away from his face to hold between both of his, and puts on his best _who me?_ look. “Wanda and--” 

“ _Wanda_ is a dirty traitor.”

“--Nat were just worried about you.”

“What? Nat spilled too?”

Steve’s face contorts.

“Oh my god. They all told, didn’t they?”

“They care about you!”

Sam drops his head to the back of the couch and blinks at the ceiling. “Oh my god.”

“They were concerned.”

“They wanted you in on the bird got beaten up by a bug joke.”

“You still had a concussion from our last fight and insisted on taking a patrol anyway, they had a right to worry.”

Sam looks down at him, wary. “Uh-huh.”

“Nat might have also texted me some choice emojis but that’s neither here nor there.” Steve pushes up, brushing a soft kiss to the line of Sam’s jaw. “C’mon, we all know you’re still the Falcon,” his voice drops, slow and warm, whispering along Sam’s skin, “big and brave and strong.” He shifts, straddling Sam’s waist, hands cupping Sam’s face. “You’re a superhero, you could’ve crushed that ant if you really wanted to.”

“Damn straight.”

Steve chuckles, tongue tracing the shell of Sam’s ear. “Yeah, of course. Sam Wilson. The Falcon.” He nudges Sam’s neck back with his nose, sucking lavish little love bites down his throat. “There ain’t a fuckin’ thing too--” Steve forgets himself, reaches a hand to Sam’s shoulder for leverage, and knocks away an icepack, hand glancing over a bruise.

Sam yelps and jerks upright, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Every sore spot on his body lights up.

Sam groans and resigns his life to the carpet. It’s soft and he hopes he sinks so far into it he never has to move again.

Steve gallantly tries to muffle his laughter with his arm, curling up at Sam’s side.

“I quit. I live here now. Just try to step over me whenever you need to get across the room.” says Sam, flares of pain starting to recede.

Steve snuggles his face into Sam’s neck and smushes a kiss to his chin. “You think we could use him?”

“I don’t know. I’ll look into it, if you want.”

“Mm, s’your call.” Steve’s breath is evening out. Sam smiles to himself. Unusual perks of being a superhero apparently include midday floor naps with your boyfriend. “If you want to do some insect-igating, that’s fine.”

“You--”

“I don’t want him bugging out on you again, though. Maybe owl come with you. Two birds in the hand, better than--”

“That’s not the fucking saying--”

“You’re just mad beak-buzz--”

“Don’t _mix_ it mid pun, that’s just tacky--”

“I think you mean, _quacky_.”

Sam clasps his hand over Steve’s mouth. “If you value this relationship, you’ll stop now.”

Steve mimes zipping his lips closed when Sam pulls away, smiling widely. “Scout’s honor,” he says. “My jokes are done. I promise.”  

Sam waits.

“They all flew the coop.”

Sam is on his feet.

“Gone South for the winter,” Steve calls, rolling with laughter. Sam idly tosses a pillow at his face and throws his hands up as he heads for the door.

“Enjoy the couch tonight,” he yells. “And tomorrow!”

“No, come on, Sam--don’t _bee_ like that!”


End file.
